


Cuppa

by prettybirdy979



Series: Trope Bingo Fills [14]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Against all odds, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-23
Updated: 2013-07-23
Packaged: 2017-12-21 03:15:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/895133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettybirdy979/pseuds/prettybirdy979
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John just wants a cup of tea, is that too much to ask?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cuppa

**Author's Note:**

> For the Against all Odds square on my trope bingo. It was finished by midnight just not posted until just after...

John stared at the ceiling.

To his great relief the ceiling didn’t stare back which meant today was on track to be a much better day than yesterday. He checked his clock and saw it was barely six in the morning on a Sunday. He groaned, rolled over and closed his eyes.

A series of banging noises came from downstairs followed by a muttered curse in a posh voice. There was a final bang, an even louder posh curse and then an eerie silence. With a sigh, John pulled himself out of bed and went downstairs. He felt relieved at the thought Mrs Hudson was visiting her sister and had thus missed any of the noise downstairs.

He walked into the living room where Sherlock was sitting among the remains of their bookcase. Sherlock blinked up at him, eyes narrowed in confusion at John’s earlier than usual appearance. He opened his mouth to comment but as John could see he was perfectly fine, he raised a hand to tell Sherlock to shut up until he had had a cup of tea.

Remarkably, Sherlock was silent and John was able to get the kettle going without incident. But then, just as his water was boiling and he was about to grab a tea bag from the cupboard, Sherlock shouted from the other room.

‘A case John!’ He flew into the kitchen and grabbed at John’s arm pulling him away from his tea. ‘Get dressed.’

With a sad look at his possible tea, John complied.

********

The crime scene was a bank, just across the road from a cafe. John found focusing on the dead redhead on the bank’s floor hard, distracted as he was by the possibility of tea just a few metres away.

‘John!’ Sherlock called, his tone making it clear it was not the first time he had called.

‘Hmm?’ John asked, turning away from the cafe with a sigh and focusing his attention on the bodies. Jamie Sandson had been a model employee by the manager’s account and had had no reason to be here last night when interrupting a robbery had left him as dead as the security guard.

Sherlock eyed him for a moment but the case was too interesting and he shelved his deductions for later.

Ten minutes later Sherlock dashed off from the scene, muttering something about leagues. With a long sad look at the cafe, John followed so as to protect Sherlock from himself.

He hoped the chase took them near another cafe.

********

It was eleven in the morning and John still hadn’t had his tea.

They had ended up in a antique shop sitting in a row of shops, all of them some selling variation of clothes, furniture or technology.

Not a cup of tea in sight. John sighed and put it to the back of his mind even as he tried to stop Sherlock insulting the head of a very unusual league, who refused to believe his treasurer was dead.

John wasn’t sure showing him a picture of his friend’s corpse was the best way to go about it but he was having trouble finding the ability to care.

********

Lunchtime.

Still no tea.

Also nothing to eat but the muffin John had stolen off Lestrade’s desk when Sherlock had barged in to declare that everyone was an idiot and demand the files on a robbery last month.

Which is what he was looking over now, in one of the spare offices of the Yard. After a half hour of reading, Sherlock made an interested noise.

‘Found something then?’ John asked.

‘Multiple things.’

John rolled his eyes. ‘Something related to the case?’

‘Yes.’

‘John, Sherlock?’ Lestrade poked his head in. ‘I’m getting coffee, want some?’

‘Tea please.’ John replied in delight.

‘No! No time for tea, we have to fix the mistakes of your incompetent coworkers.’ Sherlock declared, pushing past Lestrade.

John didn’t even bother to sigh when he followed.

********

Sherlock led John to a building, told him to stand outside it without raising suspicion and disappeared.

After ten minutes, John pulled out his phone and googled for cafes nearby. Finding none that were still in sight of the building he turned to just googling tea and daydreaming over the pictures of cups of tea he found.

*********

_Don’t even think about moving. SH_

John frowned at the text, received at the two hour mark.

_I want a cup of tea. Tell me why I shouldn’t go get one. JW_

_You standing there is stopping a ‘league’ of bank robbers from entering the building and planning their next robbery. SH_

_And you couldn’t tell me this before I stood here, why? JW_

_No time. SH_

_And now? JW_

_Everyone arrested. You can come home now. Get Chinese. SH_

Home meant tea. With a delighted grin, John set out for their Chinese.

********

John dumped the Chinese on the table, barely sparing it a glance as he headed for the kettle. He set it to boil and opened the cupboard to get a tea bag.

There were no boxes of tea. Frowning, he checked another cupboard and found nothing. A frantic search of all their cupboards produced exactly one empty tea box.

‘Sherlock! Where’s the tea?’

‘Oh, we ran out last night. I told you this.’ Sherlock declared from behind John, having wandered into the kitchen after John had failed to bring the food to him.

‘No you didn’t! When?’

Sherlock thought for a moment. ‘About half two.’

John made a horrified noise. ‘I was asleep then!’

‘Not my fault.’ Sherlock said through a mouth full of honey chicken.

John considered asking Mrs Hudson for tea, remembered why he couldn't and felt his heart drop. ‘I just wanted-’ John said sadly, then thought about what he was saying. Resigned to his fate, John turned the kettle off, grabbed a random container of food and headed for the stairs.

‘Where are you going?’ Sherlock asked.

‘Bed. I can’t take any more of today.’

********

Twenty minutes later there was a knock on his door. John looked up from where he was slowly eating the sweet and sour pork Sherlock liked and frowned. Sherlock never knocked.

‘Come in?’

Sherlock slowly opened the door, then entered. John’s eyes widened at what he was carrying.

Two cups of steaming tea.

‘Sherlock?’

‘Mrs Hudson was at her sisters, but her spare key is far too easy to find. Would you like a cup of tea?’

John beamed. ‘Yes please.’


End file.
